


I Think Girls Like Being Deceived

by queenamyrulez (skinman)



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinman/pseuds/queenamyrulez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different version of the 'Boyle-Linetti Wedding' episode inspired by the dialogue 'Jenny's going to think I'm married' in which Terry is unable to remove the ring and events unfold slightly differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think Girls Like Being Deceived

“I can’t believe this happened again.” Jake muttered in disbelief, still a little shaken from seeing his childhood crush attached to the face of another man.

“Has anyone got some margarine?” Charles called out, looking frantically to the people spread out around him.

Jake made a face at him, brow furrowed, “Who brings margarine to a wedding?”

“Well if you’re going to get other people’s wedding rings stuck on your giant gorilla fingers maybe _you_ should, pup?” Gina shot back. "Urgh. Why is this happening to me! I've never done anything wrong."

Terry held Jake’s hand fast, twisting the ring as much as he could without hurting Jake. “Damn, this is stuck on tight.”

“You know what, its fine.” Charles held up his hands in a surrender, attempting a calm façade, “I keep my old wedding ring in my car.”

“Why?” Amy asked, mirroring Jake’s confused expression.

 “For undercover stuff… and warding off women in bars. If I’m not wearing a ring they’re all over me Amy.” Boyle explained in a matter-of-fact tone, hands on his hips.

“Ew.” Gina recoiled slightly.

“My dad can have that and I’ll switch them over later when he’s sleeping.”

“Um, I think he would notice that.” Amy replied, disbelief in her tone.

“No, for once Charles has a good plan. Lynn is the most unobservant man I’ve ever met, and he sleeps like a tranquilised walrus.” Gina appraised, clapping her hands to gain the small group’s full attention. “Okay, Charles go get that ring. Jake go to the bathroom, find some soap, try and see if by some miracle you can loosen that ring.” Gina looked to each man in turn, then her gaze settled on Amy, looking the other woman up and down with disgust, “Amy come with me, you’re a damn disgrace.”

 

* * *

 

“Gina!” Amy called out again, then sighed in defeat. Amy had been left alone to get changed but, unfortunately, it seemed she’d sprained her shoulder chasing Minsk and she couldn’t seem to reach the back of the dress to do the zip up.

Taking the risk, Amy poked her head out round the door. The foyer was crowded but not too crowded. She could see Jake, his left hand stuck firmly in his trouser pocket as he flited around by the double doors, watching Jenny Gildenhorn out the corner of his eye.

“Jake!” Amy hissed, apologetic but desperate.

His head shot up, and he seemed to pause a moment to see what she wanted.

She beckoned him over with a sharp hand gesture, staying behind the door so no one could see the state of her dress. She moved back a step so Jake could slip inside the restroom.

“What’s up?” Jake backed up against the door to close it and then locked it behind himself.

“I need a quick favour. Can you just try and be an adult about it? Please.” Amy said, laying down some quick rules.

Jake raised a suggestive eyebrow, “Oh-kay. Really curious as what exactly you’re going to have me do.”

“Stop it.” Amy huffed, “I just can’t reach the zipper I need you to do me up." She turned so he could see the bare expanse of her back, golden skin with a black bra strap stretched across the base of her shoulder blades.

“Cool. Yeah. Sure.” Jake cleared his throat, taking hold of the tiny black tab at the base of her spine.

He deliberately, if mostly sub-consciously, took a moment or two longer than was necessary pulling it up. There were few strands of hair that had fallen out her ponytail so she hadn’t pulled out the way. He was pretty wary of them, not wanting to hurt her; he took the time to brush them out the way before he secured the tab at the top.

“All done?” She checked.

“For sure.” He breathed out hard, sticking his clammy hands in his pants pockets. “Shall we enter?” He suggested with a smile, poking out his elbow for her to grasp.

Once Jake had closed the restroom door behind them Amy suddenly felt self-conscious in the lightly-crowded foyer.

“You okay?” He asked, hands still in his pockets. The anxiety beginning to come off her in waves.

“Yeah. Do I look okay? This dress isn’t exactly my usual kind of thing.” She asked, turning to him and brushing her hands over the front of the outfit.

“Uh, yeah.” Jake gulped, “Just…” He reached behind her head and pulled the tie out of her ponytail so her hair fell back into the soft, loose curls that had been there when he’d picked her up in his car earlier.

“Right.” Amy agreed, raising her hands to blindly rearrange it slightly. “Okay?”

“Yep.” Jake grinned at her, “You honestly can’t tell that you just came from a dumpster wrestle with dangerously uneducated counterfeiter who doesn’t know how to spell ‘plurtus’.”

Amy rolled her eyes, “You know it’s pluribus.”

“I actually did not.” Jake admitted.

Amy couldn’t help but laugh lightly, her anxiety slowly seeping away. The glint in Jake’s eyes confirmed that had been the exact objective he’d hoped to achieve. Over his shoulder Amy briefly caught sight of a woman watching them; tall and slight, long brunette hair, and a quizzical expression. Jenny Gildenhorn. Amy quickly averted her gaze before the other woman realised she was looking back. She didn’t hold much regard for Jenny at this point, so she pushed all thought of the stranger from her mind.

“How do I look?” Jake drew her attention back to himself.

In response she reached out and did up the first of his three jacket buttons, “Barely ruffled.”

“Damn,” He snapped his fingers in mock disappointment, “I was going for ‘slightly ruffled’.” Running his left hand through his hair the wedding ring glinted, catching Amy’s eye.

“No luck with the ring then?” Amy said, offering him a sympathetic expression.

“Nah, I think my finger swelled up. I don’t know; maybe it’s the universe sending me a sign.”

“About Jenny?” Amy probed carefully.

 Jake sighed, “I think all those years I spent pining after her… I guess I built her up in my mind as the perfect woman and, honestly, I mean, she’s super pretty, and smart, and all those other things I thought she was, but…”

“You didn’t feel the ‘thing’?” Amy finished eloquently.

“Yeah. That. The ‘thing’…” Jake nodded. Not bothering to hide his ringed finger, his hand rested at his side now. It was too much effort and he was pretty sure he didn’t care anymore. Seeing Jenny again had helped him realise the fantasy of it all. The Jenny Gildenhorn he’d constructed in his head wasn’t real and he had to let her go.

“Time to put away childish things.” Amy quoted to him, smiling warmly.

Jake gestured to himself, “I’m wearing a tux and I ate bran cereal this morning, what more do you want?”

“No, it’s a… poem- never mind.” Deciding it wasn’t worth explaining she hooked a hand around his upper arm, dragging him toward the entrance of the ceremony.

 

* * *

 

“How is this song playing?” Jake murmured to himself, as Air Supply’s ‘All out of Love’ filtered through the speakers. Across the dance floor Jenny swayed happily with her Eddie Fung 2.0.

“Hey?” Amy sidled up to him, distracting him from the scene he was watching play out.

“Hey.” He said, sighing.

“You doing okay?” She asked softly.

“Hm.” Was the only response. Actually, he was doing fine, he wasn’t pining so much as marveling at the way today had turned out. He steeled his nerves, “Amy, do you remember when we went undercover with Holt at that dance contest?”

“Sure…” She sounded unsure, hoping, but not convinced she knew where he was going.

“Remember how I taught you not to dance on my feet?”

“Yeah.” Amy shrugged a silent _‘And?’_

“Good,” he finished, catching her hand and pulling her out onto the dance floor. Spinning her to face him, pressing one hand to her waist, and gripping her right lightly with the other. Her left hand instinctively ended up by his shoulder.

She focused on her feet, making sure to keep up with him.

“Chill out, Ames.” Jake laughed at the severe amount of concentration etched onto her features. “Breathe.”

“Right.”

She pressured herself to calm down, her feet keeping clear of Jake’s and in time with the music, until Jake decided to lean in a bit closer and sniff her. It took all her concentration not to stomp on his toes so it didn't help that he kept distracting her. 

“Hey, you don’t smell like garbage!” He mused, grinning.

Amy titled her head at him quizzically, unsure how to take that appraisal, “Thanks?”

Jake figured out what it was his nose was telling him, “Actually, you really smell like-”

“Gina.” They said in unison.

“Yeah,” Amy nodded, “She hosed me down with her body spray.”

“Eh, better than garbage I guess.” Jake had to admit there was a small part of him that was severely disappointed. He kind of… really liked the way Amy smelled. He could never quite figure out what it was; it was a very subtle scent, probably just the lavender detergent she used on her clothes with a hint of that warm, aged paper smell that hit you when you opened a really old case file.

A sort of quietness fell between them. Jake struggled not to look in her eyes; unable to stop himself he eventually stared into them. At this distance he could clearly make out where her pupil met her iris; her eyes such a deep brown he was usually unable to do that. Then she stared back. Something passed between them, just for a second, as Jake drew in a long breath, his lips curving into a smiled response. And then the moment ended.

He quickly noticed his hand had slid round to the small of her back and so he slightly awkwardly stepped away, covering with “Hey, I’m going to go get a drink, you want anything?”

“No. No, I’m just… going to go congratulate Darlene and Lynn.” She pointed robotically over her shoulder with her thumb, despite the fact Darlene and Lynn were actually in completely the other direction.

“Cool. Cool.” Jake bowed out, heading speedily over to the bar without looking back. He was still standing by the bar when she approached him.

“Jake?”

He jumped when Jenny touched his arm. He’d been staring off into the distance, deliberating the Amy debacle. “Huh? Jenny.” His lips parted in surprise, “Um. Hi.”

“Hey, sorry we didn’t get to sit together. I didn’t realise you were with the groom.” Jenny nodded apologetically.

“Oh.” Jake breathed. Suddenly that made a lot more sense, “Yeah. Well… I’m friends with Charles. His son.” And Lynn’s side of aisle had more spaces that needed filling up.

Jenny smiled knowingly, “The one who announced he had sex with Gina into the microphone.”

Jake gulped, embarrassed for his best friend; even though he doubted Charles himself was that embarrassed out it, “Yep… that would be the one.”

“You, Gina, and he work together, huh?” She seemed genuinely interested, and the bartender was taking forever, so Jake saw no reason to stop escape the conversation despite his inner turmoil over Jenny's earlier actions. “I noticed there are a few officers here.”

“Uh huh, the ninety-ninth precinct. We're all here.” He said, not thinking as he placed his left hand on the bar, the stubborn ring catching the light. "Charles, Terry," He pointed to each one in turn, "Amy..." he looked around, squinting, "... I have no idea where Rosa's gone."

Just then he was distracted by a laugh, a familiar laugh. Somehow it stood out to him amongst the ambient noise. Amy was with Holt and Kevin now, laughing a little too hard at something one of the two had said. Brown-nosing away just the way she always did. Jake chuckled to himself, finding it endearing.

Jenny drew her eyes away from the ring to look where Jake was gazing.

“Must be weird dating someone you work with.” Jenny commented, smiling slightly nervously.

Jake assumed they were still on the subject of Gina and Charles and so responded to that end, “I wouldn’t call it ‘dating’ really.”

Jenny’s eyes widened, her tone growing more intense, a little afraid she’d offended him, “Oh. Well, obviously.” She, in turn, was referring to the ring, and the higher level of commitment it represented.

Jake frowned, having lost track of the conversation. He’d been expecting a small laugh or a tiny smile, but nothing, Jenny just seemed a little more earnest than before. Weird.

“I should…” She trailed off, holding up the two drinks that had been pushed across the bar to her, signalling there was someone she needed to go find. “It was nice to see you again Jake.”

“Likewise.”

 

* * *

 

“Excuse me! Excuse me.” An unfamiliar voice caught up with Amy as she exited the venue. The natural light was dim now and her feet had begun to ache from standing around in heels all evening.

She spun to face the stranger, a little terrified of what was about to happen, surprised by who she saw, “Hi? Jenny, right?”

“Yeah. And you’re Amy.” Jenny breathed out in a sharp sigh, “Sorry. You left these inside.” The woman held up a set of very familiar car keys.

“Oh my god! Thank you.” Amy said, sincerely grateful.

Upon their arrival Jake had complained his keys were too bulky for his pants pocket and pestered Amy to put them in her purse. Since he was dropping her home it made sense; she’d simply given in. Then she’d had to dig into her purse to find a small photo of her new niece when Charles’ aunt had broached the subject with her, and she’d placed the keys on a table in the corner of the room.

“Jake would have freaked out if I’d lost them.” Amy explained. “The car is his baby.”

“Well…” Jenny smiled politely, holding out the keys for Amy to take them.

And she did.

“Oh my god.” Jenny began, gesturing to Amy’s left hand, “That is a beautiful ring.”

“Hm?” Amy looked down. Observing where she was still dangling the keys from her index finger she saw that two fingers along sat her grandmother’s ring, demure, a couple of small diamonds inlaid in a plain silver band. What she couldn’t understand was why it was on her left rather than her right… she must have switched it over when she was chasing Minsk so she could hold her gun more comfortably. She did that sometimes.

Amy stuttered her reply slightly, “Oh, thanks. It was my grandmothers.”

Jenny put her hand over her heart, “That’s so romantic. Honestly, I didn’t even know Jake was married.”

“Uhhh-” Amy’s mouth fell open, but before she could form a response she was interrupted.

“Jenny!” A tall, older woman with a dark bob wearing a deep blue dress hollered over to them. Amy assumed this was Mrs Gildenhorn, Jenny’s mother.

“It was nice meeting you.” Jenny concluded their conversation, before turning on her heel and striding off toward the taxi cab that was waiting for her.

Amy made a noise that was half way between a whine and a nervous laugh.

It was in that moment that Jake appeared at her side, accompanied by Captain Holt and Kevin.

“Ames, you alright?” Jake asked, drinking in Amy’s shocked expression as she watched Jenny’s cab pull away from the curb.

“Jake, I think, maybe, Jenny might think we’re married.” She put simply.

“What?” Jake said, his tone uncharacteristically shrill.

“Who would not?” Holt offered, drawing the ‘couples’ attention.

“What?” Jake repeated, a little louder this time.

Holt’s expression remained unchanged as he began his list, “You arrived together. You’re both wearing rings on your left ring finger. You disappeared, alone, into a locked restroom together for approximately several minutes-”

“Why were you keeping count?” Jake muttered rhetorically.

“You then emerged looking... disheveled.”

Amy winced at the thought of what the Captain was implying. Even if she didn’t hate the idea of ‘being’ with Jake she certainly didn’t want her Captain talking to her about it. After all, he probably knew they'd looked 'disheveled' when they went into the restroom.

Holt ignored the uncomfortable expressions of his detectives and surged on, “Peralta you then fixed Santiago’s hair, and you, Santiago, did up his jacket button. These actions display a sense of... comfortable familiarity.”

“Seriously, why were you keeping track?” Jake murmured, perplexed. His words were, once again, overlooked.

“You then sat next to each other during the ceremony. You also sat together during dinner. You then danced primarily with each other. Now you’re leaving in the same car…” He looked down, a small dent appearing in between his brows, then he looked back up to meet Amy’s eyes, “Also Peralta is holding your coat and you his car keys. These are what one might call… domestic acts.”

“Very observant Raymond.” Kevin praised in his usual rigid but easy demeanour.

“Ah.” Was Jake’s only immediate response. “That ‘weird dating’ comment make _so_ much more sense now.” He whispered to himself.

Amy lightly grimaced at his side, saying nothing.

“Anyone could and would logically jump to the conclusion this… ‘Jenny’ did.” Holt summarised. “Goodnight detectives.” He nodded to them politely, and held his arm out for his husband to take as they strolled off into the night to find their car.

Jake swallowed tightly, watching Amy out the corner of his eye. He began to chew his cheek anxiously.

She eventually felt his gaze and slowly looked over, an eyebrow raised. A silent question: _‘Where do we go from here?’_

“Coat?” Jake offered, holding it out to her.

The tense awkwardness of the moment dissolved as soon as he smiled at her that way; like he was simultaneously apologetic over and amused by how things had worked out.

She huffed. Smiling back, she accepted the coat.

“Thanks.”

“You know,” Jake said, catching the keys she playfully tossed into his chest, “I guess it’s not so bad.” He shoved his hands with his keys into his pants pockets and nudged her arm with his elbow as they walked toward the parking lot.

“What?” Amy squinted up at him curiously, “Jenny thinking I’m your wife?”

“Yeah!” Jake enthused, “See, you look super nice tonight so Jenny must have really got a feel for what a stud she missed out on.”

“Jake!” Amy complained, thumping him in the arm.

“What?” He flinched away, trying to hide his grin; he wanted to maintain that he was being serious, “That was a compliment.”

Amy snorted, “Yeah, a backhanded one. So... it’s okay me being your fake wife if I make other women jealous? …Dude.”

Jake laughed to himself as they approached his car. He clicked the button on his keys so that the lights flashed and the vehicle unlocked.

“Also never use the word ‘stud’ again, ever.” Amy advised.

The majority of the ride to Amy’s home was then consumed by what words were and weren’t cool.

“'Adherence' is not just a cool word, Jake…” Amy’s tone was knowing and assured, “It’s a sexy word.”

“Going to be honest with you, Ames, I have no idea what that word means.” Jake admitted as he pulled up across the street from her apartment block.

“Uh huh. Figures.” Amy moistened her lips, smiling ever so slightly. She moaned as she climbed out the car, putting weight back on her aching feet.

Jake clambered out too, leaning up against the outside of the Mustang, arm resting on the roof, with the door still wide open, he watched her cross the street. “Hey, Mrs Peralta!” He called out once she reached the far pavement.

“Hm?” She looked back. Why had she actually responded to that? She should have just kept walking.

“You really do look super nice tonight though.” He repeated his earlier compliment with more sincerity this time, leaving her slightly unnerved.

She was still musing over his words five flights of stairs later when she fell through her front door. Sitting down on her couch, she tore off her heels and pulled out her phone.

_‘If you think I’d take your surname you’re kidding yourself Peralta.’_

Waking up that morning Amy hadn’t thought to even begin entertain the idea she might, by the end of the night, be wondering if whether upon marrying Jake would she hyphenate or not. But she was still buzzing from the party, not thinking completely logically about the fallout this could have.

Then she got it; her phone buzzed. The text message contained an image Amy couldn’t help but laugh out loud at. A slightly lopsided, doodled heart, drawn in red pen on scrap paper. In the center were the words _‘Mr Jake Santiago’_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was just warm up for the next chapter of Jump the Wall! Hope you liked it. I'm not completely happy with it but I needed to get this idea out there.


End file.
